That Which Falls in Past and Present
by G.L. Cifer
Summary: "Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I went back to the day I drowned and survived..." 317-year-old, immortal Jack Overland Frost switches bodies with 17-year-old, human Jackson Burgess. Hilarity ensues... sort of.
1. Beneath the Frozen Lake

**1**| _Beneath the Frozen Lake _

* * *

The young man moved quietly through the icy "tundra" with the elegance of a ballerina. Icy tendrils of wind and snow whipped angrily at his pale face and enveloped his silent figure in a blanket of white. If one did not know this mysterious child personally, they might have surmised him to be the lone and stoic guardian of ice. But if you were, say, a magical Australian bunny rabbit or a being with wings that fluttered and shined like shades,of jade you would know this young adolescent to be none other than Jack Overland Frost, the mischievous guardian of fun. But on this uncouth day, Jack Frost represented everything except fun.

His pale and thin hands were roughly shoved in his blue pockets and his aged old staff rested heftily in the crook of his elbow. He appeared to be in a form of deep thinking with his furrowed dark eyebrows and prominent frown. And flurries of snow continuously flew up from the ground as he unconsciously kicked it up with the soles of his bare feet.

A memory was playing out in his mind. A memory of tears and laughter. A memory of cracking ice. A memory of-

"Jaaaaackkkkk!" an angrily voice growled indignantly. The voice, clearly of Australian descent, brought a small smile to the addressed boy's face.

A boomerang suddenly appeared from the white storm and whirled furiously towards Jack's nonchalant form. The snow spirit easily dodged it with a quirky smile and let loose a pixie-like laugh.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Bunny?" Jack questioned in a light and joking manner, pausing to lean on his staff and poise himself with the epitome of lassitude.

"You...!" Bunnymund growled, appearing from the loom of snow. His brown fur was caked with snow and frost; and his gray eyes were filled with fiery rage. "You filled my den with snow!"

"Don't I fill everything with snow?" Jack blinked innocently with a small shrug. "I am the spirit of winter."

"But not my den!" Bunnymund retorted loudly, emphasizing his anger with several wild hand movements. "Especially not a week before Easter, you bloody pixie!"

"Hey," Jack said with narrowed eyes as he straightened himself up as if to emphasize his height, "I am NOT a pixie, Mister Easter Kangaroo."

"You did not just go there, you little bugger." Bunnymund hissed, his Australian accent becoming even more prominent than before.

"You and I know exactly that I did, Kangaroo." Jack replied snarkily as he leaned forward on his staff.

"Why you...!" Bunnymund said indignantly, raising an angry furry fist. "Do you think everything is a joke, you little piece of chunder!" Before Jack could retort, he continued on, "Y'know, why we Guardians work hard? So we can make children happy-

"I make children happy!" Jack retorted defensively as he crossed his arms. "I give them snow days!"

"But that's all you give them; and some of them don't even want a snow day!" Bunnymund shouted as he kicked up a pile of snow. "Maybe if you actually started trying to focus on the children, instead of fooling around and causing trouble everywhere, then maybe more children would actually believe in you!"

Jack blinked rapidly, allowing the insult to slowly settle in.  
What did Bunnymund know anyways? Jamie believed in him and some of his friends did too. That was more than enough for Jack. He didn't need world-wide recognition...Right?

Jack scowled lamely, before turning around and kicking off into flight. Snow from the ground momentarily danced in the air as he did so and it latched itself onto Bunnymund's dark fur. This only angered the anamorphic representation of Easter even more.

"Get back here, you chook," Bunnymund demanded, looking at Jack as if he was a disobedient puppy, "and clean up this mess!"

But Jack Overland Frost continued to run away with the blizzardly storm following him in his wake.

* * *

Jack Frost, no matter how hard he tried, could not get a grip on his nerves.

What was wrong with Bunnymund anyways? All Jack wanted to do was get his mind off of drowning - more like the feeling of drowning, really. It had only been five months since the Guardians had managed to defeat Pitch and it had only been five months since Jack saw the first glimpses of his memories. And for a immortal, five months were a mere five minutes.

Jack was excited. No, he was anxious. What had happened to his little sister, the one whom he had sacrificed his life for? Did she live a happy life, or did she live her life in fear of stepping near the water's edge? Jack would never know and he would never forget that feeling. The feeling of sinking...  
and sinking...

sinking...

sink...

sink.

Drown.

Jack jerked his body suddenly, his mind having been sunken into the memory of icy waters and unapparent air. Arching his body forwards mid-flight, he dove towards the white ground, slicing through frigid winds as he did so. In seconds, his pale feet made contact with the smooth solid cover of a frozen lake. The frozen lake in which he drowned to be specific.

He dragged his staff along the edge of the said lake, creating uneven bumps and grooves on the surface of ice. He then ran to the center of the ice and sprawled out on its surface, gazing up at the blinding white sky and the petals of falling snow. He smiled slightly as a small snowflake alighted on the tip of his nose and then recalled an instance when he and his first believer, Jamie, made snow angels on the ground.

Jamie... He needed to visit Jamie. They could play around all day, pulling pranks on adults and overgrown bullies. Yes, that was what he would. He would have some fun.

Standing up rather quickly, he began to quickly dart off of the lake, but paused as he realized that he had forgotten something rather important: his staff. It laid quietly and patiently on the surface of the ice, its magically appearance having faded after being relinquished by its owner.

Running to his staff, Jack bent over and began to pick it up, but paused as he saw something move beneath the murky waters under the solid ice.

_"Jaaack!_" a familiar voice called, "_Jaaaaack_."

Jack pipped his head up and looked around the forest surrounding him, but was unable to find the source of the sound. Shaking it off, he bent down on all fours and tried to see what exactly it was that was swaying under the ice.

_Jaaaaaaaackkk._

Jack squinted through the aquatic darkness and his eyes, ever so slowly, made out the figure of a human. A human child. A human male child. Drowning.  
The world suddenly froze around him and his head began to buzz noisily with confusion.

The child was drowning. Thrashing. Drowning. And...He needed to save the drowning boy. Heneededtosavetheboy. Savesavesavesavesave...  
So why wouldn't his legs move? Why wouldn't his limbs work? Why wouldn't he save the boy?

"Because your afraid..." a voice whispered from the corners of his mind.

He...He was afraid? Fear...Aqua-phobia...?

No. He would not be afraid!

Jack tightened his grip on his staff and raised it above his head, ignoring the hilarity of the situation he was in.

He was not afraid!

_Jack!_

He struck down on the ice, causing it to crack and fragment like a spiderweb. As the unstable ice began to falter beneath his feet, he began to realize that maybe - just maybe - he should've thought his plan through.

He blinked confusedly as his feet began to fall through the ice faster than he could kick off into flight.

Yeah, he really should've thought his plan through.

And he fell through the ice and was blanketed in black water.

* * *

Bunnymund hopped heatedly through the snowy fields of Burgess with slightly crossed arms. Having just been lectured by both Tooth and North about being kind to the devilish Jack Frost, he was now in search of the said devil to apologize to him. However, in Bunnymund's opinion, the frost sprite deserved anything but an apology.

"That little devil..." the pooka muttered under his breath. "I oughta..." He swore viciously under his breath, unaware of the frost spirit's current plight.

* * *

Black water everywhere. No air. Cold. Suffocation.  
Jack Frost thrashed wildly as the tendrils of darkness grasped at his clothing and dragged him down deeper into the lake. This had been an entirely stupid idea and now he was going to lose his life for it... And all he had wanted to do was save the drowning kid-

The kid... where was he?

Jack glanced in the murkiness below him, but was unable to find any signs of the child he had risked his life for. Did he imagine the entire thing...?

His lungs suddenly felt like they were going to explode. They burned with fiery intensity that he and only felt once before - the time he had drowned. And he was going to drown again.

Terror began bubbling inside of him as blackness dotted his vision. Was this going to be it...? Was he going to...

He blinked rapidly and shook himself off. He, Jack Overland Frost, was not going to die. He, who had helped to bring downfall of Pitch, would not be bested by water. Even if he feared it.

Clawing viciously at the frigid water - wait, frigid? - he pushed himself upwards ever so slowly. Above him, a slither of light glimmered through the darkness. He would - no, he was - going to survive... For the Guardians...For the children...and for Jamie. He didn't care if his lungs exploded or if his limbs burned off from exhaustion. All he cared about was...

He gasped for air as he reached the surface of the water and slowly reached out and dragged himself up onto the surface of the ice. For a moment, he lay there spluttering and coughing up large amounts of water as he gasped for air. And then, he remained still and shivered.

Hold it... He shivered? I-Impossible! He was the spirit of winter; he was the king of blizzards! There was no way he, Jokul Frosti, was shivering! But, there he was, laying on the cold surface of frozen water with his chattering teeth. Something was horribly wrong.

Attempting to pull himself up into a sitting position to assess his bodily damage, he found that his limbs were stiff with cold and he could barely lift them. This was bad. The entire situation was horribly bad. H-He needed his staff. Right away. Lifting his head slightly, he scanned the area around him looking for his precious weapon. It was nowhere to be found.

"Don't tell me it's still in the water!" he grumbled achingly between gasping breaths. "Great, I'm officially, royally screwed over."

To make matters even worse, his vision was beginning to fade. As dots of black began to flood his vision, he made out several figures appearing out from the shrouds of shadow in the forest. Great, the Guardians were here to save him! A feeling of relief and embarrassment swept over him. At least, that was until his eyes registered the figures clearly. They were, without a doubt, not the Guardians at all. In fact, they appeared human.

Well, great. They wouldn't be able to see him! Now, he was royally screwed.

"Jack!" a figure - male - shouted as he approached the adolescent and scooped him up into his arms.

"Huh...?" Jack muttered uncomprehendingly as he struggled from the man's grasp. The adult could see him? How...? "Y-You can see me?"

"Of course I can, Jack!" the man answered in a worried tone as he continued cradling the frost sprite in his arms. "Now quit moving and stay with me!"

"W-W-Who're you?" the shivering teen questioned through chattering teeth.

The man paused and blinked at him in both surprise and worry, before saying, "Jack, it's me, your father."

And thus, Jack Overland Frost elegantly fainted.

* * *

**A/N: **And it is done! I love RotG and I saw it last...Sunday? It was amazing. Jack Frost was especially amazing... If you know what I mean.. /winkwink. Anyways, please review...? ;3


	2. Dream Drip Drown

**2**|_ Dream • Drip • Drown_

* * *

Madame Antoinne hustled briskly through the fire-lit household with a wooden bucket of lukewarm water in one hand and a bundle of buffalo blankets in the other. Several children gathered around her feet and she was forced to step over them for they would not settle down when she ordered them to. She couldn't blame them though. They were just worried, anxious even. And so was she.

Tripping over several toys scattered over the ground, she managed to stumble her way into an oak-laden bedroom. The room was carpeted in extravagant garments imported from India and Arabian hand-crafted pottery hung from the walls. They had all been gifts, if Antoinne recalled correctly, given to the Burgess family by several wealthy suitors.

The Burgess family was well known in the area for being the first people from England to settle in the area. Though their popularity brought in certain jobs and business opportunities, the family under the head of the household - Thaeddeus Burgess - lived a life of simplicity. And it had been a good life. And that it was until the morning prior, when young Pippa Burgess had stumbled into the household, spluttering words about her brother and the frigid ice.  
And now here she, Edna Antoinne, was, staring over the flushed and feverish face of young Jackson Burgess. It was a pity that the bright boy had fallen in such a state. Such a pity, indeed.

Antionne placed the bucket of water on the ground beside her and laid the bundle of blankets on the stool shoved roughly beside the bed; and for a moment, she stood there silently watching over the boy, watching his chest move ever so slowly in a rhythmic pattern, and regretting.

She began recalling all of the times the boy, after mercilessly pulling several pranks on her, came to her in thoughtful apology and remorse. He had then followed through with his apology by helping her do chores around the house. He was a truly good boy at heart; and although he kept a mischievous and cunning exterior, he certainly did not deserve his current fate.

A soft breeze of air rubbed up against the back of Antoinne's neck as the door behind her creaked open. She craned her head slightly and saw Jackson's mother, Hester, peer restlessly at her now only male child who laid still upon the bed.

"Hester, mon chere, you sh'uld be off to sleep," Antionne whispered in quiet voice, though she doubted that Jackson could hear her. "Ze doctor said he waz goi'ng to be fine."

"I'll see for that myself." Hester muttered, ignoring Antionne's heedings.

Seeing that she was not going to be able to separate the mother from her child, Edna briskly stepped aside and allowed Hester to approach Jackson's bed. There, the mother knelt on her knees and stared into the boy's scarlet face, caressing his warm brown hair endearingly.

"You 'ave be'n up 'nd about all day since yest'rday." Madame Antionne tried again with a slightly sterner voice. "You need rest."

"I'll rest when Jackson awakens." Hester replied defiantly as she firmly planted her rear on the ground.

"I can see where 'e gets hees rebellious streak from."

"The children are outside of the door waiting for Jack to wake up," Hester said tirelessly, ignoring the previous's comment.

Madame Antionne blinked in surprise, having not noticed that the children had unlatched themselves from her dress when she had entered Jackson's room. The very idea of the children's wary perseverance caused her hard gaze to melt. Edna knew very well how hard it was to bear the thought of possibly losing a sibling.

"You 're doing Jackson no good by stay'ng awake 'nd hindering yourself." the Madame said pointedly. For a moment there was silence. "How ees Mister Burgess fairing?"

"H-He is... blaming the entire matter on himself." Hester answered faintly as she brushed a strand of brown hair off of Jackson's face.

"'nd you are blaming eet on yourself, correct?" Antionne questioned wisely with glowering opaque eyes. She took the following silence as an answer. "Zis," she gestured delicately to the sleeping child, "ees not Mister Burgess's fault, nor ees it your fault."

"It is my fault!" Hester hissed loudly and abruptly as she buried her head into Jackson's moving chest. "It is all of my fault! If I hadn't allowed Jackson and Pippa to go out that day, this would have never happened. I knew that the weather was faring poorly outside, yet I let them go anyways! And now... Why, Teddy won't even look at me! I can't even stand to look at myself in the mirror."

"I believe Mister Burgess ees just try'ng to handle ze situation in ze way he knows best: distancing himself from ozers."

"Why, I highly doubt that." Hester muttered contemplatively as she glanced up at Antionne.

"We both know zat Mister Burgess ees not very guud at expressing his emotions." Antionne replied gently, cracking a very small smile. The change of expression was then mirrored onto Hester's face and the two of them laughed a small laugh.

"...und."

"Did you say something?" Hester questioned hesitantly, her heart beginning to beat furiously within her chest.

Antionne quickly shook her head. No.

"...op...kan...roo." came the unsteady voice from the small bed.

Hester lifted her head up fully and stared wide-eyed as the covers of the bed began to shift and turn. Stumbling back slightly, she pushed herself up into a standing position and clamored over the face of her son.

His face had lost some of its scarlet hue and his pleasant eyebrows were now furrowed in a manner of frustration. His brown head bobbed from left to right on his pillow, causing his hair to become frayed and staticy.

"J-Jack..." Hester choked as she bent over and stroked her son's face repeatedly. "Jack! Jack! It's me, mum!" She watched in shock as his hands flew to his face and in horror when his face became scrunched with pain. "Call Teddy! Call Teddy! Tell him Jack is awake!"

And Madame Antionne did as she was told, rushing out of the room like a mad cheetah.  
Jackson Burgess was waking up.

* * *

The first thing Jack realized as he drifted into wakeness was that he was unexplainably warm. How that was even possible, he didn't even know - no, he couldn't comprehend it. Never in his life had he felt so, so warm...and good. Then again, the world had become pretty incomprehensible ever since he had been rebirthed from the ice... Ice?

Holy crap, he was still trapped under the ice! He needed to swim up! Up! Up! But... his head was screeching in agony and he could not muster the strength to do so. So instead, he simply cradled his forehead in his clammy, sweaty (?) hands.

"Jack! Jack!" a voice called out to him with epitome of worry. "Jack!" The voice continued to ring obnoxiously in his ears and caused his head to throb even more.

"Ugh..." he muttered. "Quiet..."

A slamming sound suddenly ricocheted through his mind, sending another quiver of pain quaking through his mind. The sound was soon followed by the clamoring of feet and feverent, incomprehensible shouts. God, why was it so damn noisy? All of the commotion was making him feel like...like he was...he was having a "hangover", if he was using the term correctly.

North had demonstrated to him the privileges and effects of alcohol several weeks before, including a realistic demonstration while using a small elf as his test subject. The elf's hangover had been hilarious to Jack back then, but his current "hangover" was nothing to laugh about.

"I hateeee my liffeeee..." he groaned as he shook his head, the force causing his eyes to flutter open in some sort of bombastic chain-reaction. And thus, his surroundings melded into view right before his squinting eyes. He slowly made out shapes and figures, distinguished poised words from meaningless drivel, and came to find himself staring face-to-face with three worried looking adults.

One of them, a woman of thirty, watched him warmly from the bedpost of the bed he was apparently laying on (?). Her hair, a sheen color of brown, was tied up into a messy bun; whilst her clammy hands were wrapped tightly around his own. Another woman stood next to her, her beautifully aging hair swaying loosely above her shoulders. She was dressed rather oddly - well, they were all dressed oddly. The man, who stood in the corner of the room unmovingly, in particular, was dressed oddly. He had a grim face on, causing lines and wrinkles to appear on his otherwise youthful face. And although the three adults appeared to have almost nothing in common, they were all staring at one thing: him.

Jack quickly jerked his hand away from the clammy woman's grasp and shot up in "his" (was it even appropriate to call it "his"?) bed. His mind raced at alarming rates as he attempted to assess the situation he was now in.

The people around him... They were adults, right? And adults no longer believed in Fairies and Magic anymore, right? Then why could they seem him?!

His heart raced with new-found excitement, before it plummeted again. Maybe these people couldn't see him. Maybe they were just staring at something behind. It wouldn't be the first time something similar happened. Well, there was only a single way to find out.

"Can you guys see me?" he asked in barely a whisper.

"Jack..." the brown-haired woman smiled as sparkling tears erupted from her eyes. She lunged for him and pulled him into a hug, causing him to become stiff with surprise and blush. He hadn't been hugged by many woman before. Actually, the only woman who had ever embraced him was Toothiana and she wasn't exactly human. And this woman was. "Jack... I was so worried!"

His dark brows narrowed suddenly and he gently shoved the woman away before backing off to the corner of "his" bed. He didn't trust these people. What if they were in line with Pitch? What if Pitch was coming back..? What if... they were the reason why he suddenly was able to feel and endure heat and warmth

"Jack, what's wrong, honey?" the brown-haired woman asked again and stared at him warily, attempting to reach for him again. "Please look at me." And that's when Jack noticed it. Well, he noticed two things actually, the first thing being that these people surrounding him were British. (And he very well loved Bri'ish accents) The second thing he noticed was that these people knew who he was...In fact, he vaguely knew who they were too. Very, very vaguely. He had been so delirious with heat and sweat that he didn't notice the recognition and accents until now. But, no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember why they seemed so familiar to him.

That was until the door behind the flabbergasted trio of adults creaked open and several small children crept into the room. Jack, however. didn't notice them at first. He was way too focused on the people before him to clearly notice any changes in his surroundings.

"Who are you?" Jack inquired slowly as he gently dipped his head towards the brown-haired woman. Almost instantly, expressions of shock smacked themselves onto the three adults' faces; and almost instantly, Jack realized that he had said something obviously wrong.

"Jack." the adult male suddenly spoke, his grim expression molding into a familiar and worried one. In less than a second, Jack recognized the man as the one who had saved him from the lake.

"Y-You," Jack stuttered as he pointed an accusing finger at the man, "You're the one who kidnapped me after I almost drowned in the lake!"

"K-Kidnapped?" the man frowned and shook his head as the older of the two women turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"You know very well what the bloody hell I'm talking about!" Jack retorted heatedly, attempting to mock their English accents. "You pedophile!"

"What does 'pedophile' mean, mum?" a quiet voice asked from the end of the room. "And why is Jackson speaking so strangely? Is he alright now, mum?"

All eyes turned on the three children who stood quietly at the door's edge. Two of the trio of children were male and appeared to be twins about the age of five. They both had the same set of shining black eyes and the same mop of light brown hair. One of the two - Jack couldn't tell which one - had asked the question. They were adorable, Jack decided.

The third child, a young familiar girl with long brown hair and dark brown eyes, stood between the two twins. Wetness was dabbled around her eyes and it was clearly evident that she had been crying prior to entering the room. But unlike the others within the room, Jack knew exactly who she was.

"P-Pippa?!" Jack blinked in disbelief. "You're...my sister...?"

* * *

It wasn't until Bunnymund trudged through the forest and over the bridge that he finally stopped to catch his breath. Why was it so bloody damned hard to find an obnoxious frost pixie in the middle of the woods? Hell, it was just like trying to find a needle in a haystack!

It suddenly occurred to the pooka that the devious spirit of winter could possibly be purposefully hiding from him.

A sudden stab of guilt hit Bunnymund in the chest and he suddenly found himself regretting the fact that he had accused the frost sprite on so many occasions. Sure the kid was obnoxious, but deep inside he meant well. To be honest, Bunny actually respected the boy. He was courageous for sure, standing up to Pitch like a true Guardian.

Bugger. Now he was feeling really guilty. But that was why he was coming to apologize, right?

The pooka continued hopping once more, leaving large footprints in the snow behind him. As the remaining trees around him began to thin out, he found himself standing in front of a very large frozen pond. He recognized the said pond almost immediately as the place where the Guardians had their final confrontation with Pitch. Jamie, whom the pooka had visited half an hour before, had told him that if there was any place Jack would be, it would at his signature pond. And so here Bunnymund was, scanning the surface of ice with slightly squinted wasn't long before the pooka found exactly what he was looking for.

There in the center of the solid ice lay Jack Overland Frost in a sprawled out position on his back. It was hard to see him clearly from afar, but Bunnymund could tell that he was staring up at the white sky.

"Oi, Jack!" he called insistently. The boy didn't answer so Bunnymund assumed that he was getting the silent treatment. "North, Tooth, n' Sandy wanted me to apologize to you for ranting at you earlier." Once again he received no response. "Okay, fine. I want to apologize to you for yelling at you before... But that doesn't mean that what you did was right!" More. Impending. Silence. "Okay, so maybe I was a bit harsh, but you don't have to ignore me for it!" The boy didn't even move his head to acknowledge that Bunnymund had spoken. Why, in fact, as Bunnymund looked closer, it appeared as if the boy wasn't moving at all! "Jack?"

The pooka quickly hopped forward onto the ice and rushed to the frost spirit's side. As he observed before, the boy was indeed not moving in the slightest. His chest wasn't even moving and his eyes weren't even open. And the most troubling thing about the entire situation was that the boy was literally soaked through with water. His white hair was mopped over and clung in thick patches to his face, while his porcelain skin was fifty shades paler and appeared to painted over with a shiny coating of liquid. Jack looked like death.

"Jack!" Bunnymund shouted as he shook the boy roughly and lifted him up the scruff of his shirt. "Wake up!"

His demands had no response and he was forced to lift the frost spirit over his shoulder to get him to safety. Once Bunnymund and Jack were off of the ice, the pooka tapped his foot twice on the ground. In the blink of an eye, the duo was swallowed by the frosted earth.

* * *

Jack stared in disbelief at the young girl standing in front of him. His question from before still had yet to be answered and it appeared that it would never be answered for the small girl suddenly through herself onto him and embraced him in a tight and loving hug.

"J...aaa...ck," she sobbed into his shirt, "Jackkk. I'm so s-so..ooory."

Her tiny fists curled around the hemming of his shirt and it was quite apparent that she was not going to let go anytime soon.

Jack, on the other hand, simply stared at her in shock. Pippa lived over three-hundred years ago. She couldn't possibly be alive in present day. What was going on...?

"P-Pippa?" Jack questioned uncertainly, staring into the girl's sleek brown head. "You're Pippa, right?"

"Of course I'm Pippa, Jack." the young girl blinked up at him with large, watery brown eyes. "W-Why are you talking all funny for?" The girl suddenly began tearing up even more. "A-Are you becoming even more weird in the head because...because y-you fell...through the ice...?... It's all my fault!"

Trying his best not to take Pippa's insult to heart, Jack awkwardly patted the girl on the head in a kind manner, "No, no, don't cry! It's not your fault at all... Come on, smile or something. The world's not all tears and gloom."

"Y-you horrible person!" Pippa suddenly shouted in a change of mood as she slammed her fists against Jack's chest. "You said that we were going to play a game! I-I believed in you and you were just lying like you always do..."

"Ow. Ow. OW!" Jack winced in pain as he held Pippa away at arm's length. "Is that any way to treat someone who almost drowned?!"

Drowned. Drowning. Pippa?  
The pieces slowly began to fall together.  
And the world around him froze.

"Jack?" a feminine voice called to him worriedly. "Jackson, are you alright?"

Jack slowly blinked up at the woman who had addressed him. It was the clammy-handed, brown-haired woman. He frowned in concentration at her, the back of his mind beginning to bubble with clouded memories.

"Mom?" he spoke in barely a whisper.

The brown-haired woman nodded enthusiastically, new found hope brimming in her eyes.

Jack then turned towards the grim-faced man and cracked a very uncertain smile. "Dad?"

* * *

North stood over the young frost spirit's now dry and breathing body with a contemplative and worried look etched onto his face. Bunnymund had brought the boy into North's house a few hours earlier. The pooka, between deep breaths and fast-paced words, summarized his encounter with the near-to-death Jack and had relinquished the boy - with much reluctance - into North's care. And after drying the boy off and bringing him back to life through the uses of Christmas magic, now all they had to do (all they could do) was wait. And North was not a very patient man.

"How is he?" Tooth suddenly asked quietly from behind him. Before he could answer, she quickly added, "Sandy is trying to find ways to wake him up...without hurting him."

"He is better." North nodded with a smile. "No longer wet."

Toothiana's delicate face brightened with relief and she fluttered over to Jack's bedside to see the boy's state of health for herself. For a moment she floated there, studying the boy's intricate face and how is chest rose and fell softly.

"It was very kind of you to offer him a place to stay after we defeated Pitch." Toothiana murmured quietly, gesturing around the room.

"Everyone needs home, yes?" North said wisely as he glanced at the glittering fairy with warm eyes. "Even if it is temporary. He rarely stays. Sometimes, he just has a thought-

"-and follows it." Tooth nodded with a small giggle. "It happens quite often."

A sudden eruption of air tickled the back of their necks as Bunnymund entered the room. The pooka appeared to be in a rush, his fur bristling and his eyes shining. Something rather important must have happened to set him in such a mood; and whatever that matter of importance was, North had a feeling that it was involved with something of ill omen.

"You've got to see this." Bunnymund urged impatiently as he nodded towards the hallway. For a moment, his eyes strayed to Jack's quiet body. And for a moment, something resembling guilt flickered quietly into his serious expression. After that small moment passed, he returned his gaze to Tooth and North. "It's Father Time."

Tooth and North quickly exchanged glances and followed Bunnymund out of the room. If they had stayed in the room just a moment longer, they would have noticed that Jack Frost's icy blue eyes had flickered open.

* * *

_Not many children know this, but Jack Frost can be cruel._  
_Not many adults know this, but Jack Frost can be kind._  
_Not many people know this, but Jack Frost will always be J_ack Frost.

* * *

**[Author's Outbox]**

**blacklightningwolf: **Yup, yup! And many thanks!

**Sandblasted-Kitten: **/dramatically epic music. And I wanna _write_ more...sorta..

**The White Grim: **Aww, why thank ya'! ;D Here's an update just for you! D-Do you love me now..? /shot dead.

**Khfanatic441:** Thanks and will do!

**Soaha: **Ohh... Same here! But no one ever wrote a story along these lines so I had to write it on my own. xD. And I feel the love.

**Alluring Alliteration:** Well, I'm trying my best to make it interesting ;P. Oh, btw, your name is awesome. It rolls of the tongue nicely...if that makes sense? /shot.

**blackkyu: **/sniffles. Thank you. That means a lot c,;

**victiniphantom:** It will all be revealed in time. /nods and waggles fingers mysteriously.

**Shadowofdusk: **Well, let me ease your pain... /winkwink. Oh god, I'mmacreep. Thanks though! ;D

...

**A/N: **Alright! Another chapter in just two days! Huzzah for G.L.! But...sadly... my inspiration for this story is sort of dying out, so there's a slight chance that I might not update in a while. But then again, I'm going to see RotG again with some of my friends this Friday so maybe my inspiration'll come back then...? Ah well, thanks for your reviews and please review some more if you have le chance!~

**Edit 1:** Holy crap. There were so many grammatical errors in this chappie that it hurt to read it... /le sigh. And I doubt I got them all through this edit. Ah, well. /shrugs


	3. The Jack of All Trades

**3**| ▲ The Jack of All Trades ▼

* * *

_It's odd._

_Small bubbles froth up from underneath him and float up towards the black, reach-less sky._

_It is terribly odd._

_He isn't sure when he first notices it, but no one can doubt that he does notice it: he is falling._

_At first, he thinks he is dreaming an odd dream, a dream which he will not remember when he awakens the following morning. In fact, it actually feels like a lucid dream because he can feel nothing. He can see nothing. And he can hear absolutely-_

_**Nothing.**_

_The bubbles appear to multiply suddenly and he feels them tickle the surface of his skin. It irritates him for a moment until he realizes: 'Well, at least now I can feel something.'_

_'Who is the "I" in this predicament anyways?'_

_Jackson O. Burgess, a quiet voice whispers at the back of his mind._

_Well, quite frankly, he already knew that. Perhaps, he didn't ask the appropriate question._

_'Why am "I" in this predicament?'_

_There is no answer._

_Well, bloody great. Wasn't everything just chipper and fun?_

_Fun..._

_"We're just going to have a little fun..."_

_"**PIPPA!" **he shouts, no he screeches, as sudden realization dawns on him like a late-night terror._

_The darkness around him swirls suddenly, morphing into a typhoon of circulating water. The small bouts of bubble mimic the tendrils of water and begin dancing around him madly, until they completely fill his vision. Soon, all he can see are sheen-coated bubbles; and all he can hear are popping sounds in the distance._

_And while this is all happening, he is sinking faster, faster, faster. The vortex of liquidity swallows his entire being, its unforgiving tendrils pulling him down, down, down. Worst of all, the ocean of aqua around him is rapidly filling his lungs._

_He can not breathe. He can not speak. He can not fight the oncoming fate of...drowning._

_But, as the fear builds up in his slowly beating chest, he realizes that he has nothing to worry about for Pippa, his beloved sister, is safe. He doesn't know exactly how the realization dawns on him. It just does. His fear for her dissipates. Yet..._

_The fear for his own fate remains intact._

_He needs to try one more time. He needs to try to survive for his family. For Pippa. For himself..._

...

..

.

Jackson Burgess awoke, fingertips stretching upwards towards the pale ceiling, in a state of utter confusion. He thrashed around wildly in his wake, fighting against some unknown, unseen, undefeatable force. After a moment of this horrid thrashing, he laid still. Just, perfectly still.

And suddenly - almost miraculously, he lips parted and he took in a deep breath of air and opened his glistening eyes.

"Wha-" Jackson blurbed uncomprehendingly as he quickly pulled himself up into a sitting position. His confusion wasn't exactly unreasonable. He _was _surrounded by absolutely unrecognizable surroundings after all. To be honest though, he found his peculiar surroundings rather calming. It was odd.

Re-scanning the room with curious eyes, Jackson realized that he was in a **bed**room and that he was evidently lying on a **bed**. The bed was odd... and unusually soft - a little bit too soft for his liking. Placed right next to the said bed was a very odd looking stool. An on that very odd looking stool sat a very odd looking... thing.

He jumped off of the soft bed and crouched next to the stool, observing the odd contraption placed on top of it. It held the appearance - well, the shape - of a flower. Actually, now that he looked closely, the object looked like an umbrella stuffed perpendicularly inside a porcelain vase. Inside the umbrella-shaped part sat a pear-shaped glass... thingy.

Jackson gingerly tapped on the object with the tip of his finger with innocent curiosity. However, much to his shock, the pear-shaped glass tube suddenly brimmed with light. Shouting in surprise at the sudden brightness, he jumped backwards, accidentally kicking the down the stall and, in turn, knocking down the odd object also. The odd object, upon 'alighting' on the ground, shattered into over a dozen pieces. The resulting, resounding noise of the fallen object echoed through the blue-pasted room loudly; and it continued to echo through the room, not heeding to Jackson's wincing expression.

"Bollocks!" the young Burgess swore loudly as he chuckled slightly. "Today is _by far_ not going well at all..." He stood up suddenly, stretching out his arms as his light gaze traveled around the room, the broken object having been forgotten. "Now... where am I...?"

Momentarily pausing at the sound of howling and whistling, Jackson found his gaze trailing towards a window left ajar. The window was evidently of French-origin, swinging open loosely like a door rather than being pulled up in a more English-like manner.

The glass-pane creaked back and forth slowly in a rhythmic almost hypnotic pattern by soft spurts of wind. However, Jackson found the echoing sounds of the swaying window rather disturbing and briskly moved forward to close it. As he did this, he noticed that lying just beyond the crooked-window was a tundra of searing white.

Crystal-like diamonds rained outside of Jackson's window like the poisoned daggers of a dancing assassin. Dots of white flakes accompanied the daggers of ice in a tango, swirling around and around and around.

And..it was... strangely alluring.

He extended his fingertips out of the window and allowed his hand to be battered by the blizzard. Strangely enough however, the bouts of hail and snow did not reach his thin fingertips. In fact, the appeared to dance around then like luminescent butterflies.

_Jack_.

Jackson jerked back and looked around the room alarmed.

_Jack, what's wrong? Won't you come out and play...?_

Jackson slowly turned his gaze to the world outside of the window and for a moment he thought he saw a smile appear in the blowing winds.

Oh god. Was he going mad like the members of the Thitchten family? Well... Going insane actually sounded sort of...fun...

Oh god. He _was_ going insane.

Stepping back quickly, he hastily closed the window and hatched it on to its lock. He then slowly glanced through the window once more and, much to his relief, saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Blimey, there's quite a blizzard outside." Jackson muttered. "I bet mum and dad are worried sick." He chuckled slightly as he pictured how infuriated his parents would look when he returned home.

Wait a minute, was he even going to _return _home? Where the hell was he, anyways? A-And...

He felt a wave of depression sweep over him, followed by a wave of guilt.

Tears pricked at his eyes.

W-Where was Pippa? More importantly, how could he forget about her?

She was _literally_ just with him a couple of moments ago when they were still on top of the ice. On top of the ice... No, he had fallen t_hrough_ the ice. And he had nearly drowned with Pippa's screams echoing through his clouded mind. So... why wasn't he dead? Who had saved him?

A buzzing sound suddenly reverberated by his left ear, causing him to twitch back and swat at his head. His hand suddenly brushed against something soft and feathery, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"Eep!" he screeched suddenly as he swatted madly around his head and ran around the room like a lunatic. "Off! Off! Off! GET OFFFOFFFOFF OF MEEEE!"

Allow me to state the obvious: Jackson wasn't very fond of bugs. In fact, he despised them... Well, he actually feared them. Whenever he would get near one, an odd fluttering feeling would fill his stomach and a chilling crawling feeling would run up his back. And after he would encounter one, he would run around screaming bloody murder until it stopped "attacking" him. Like now, for instance.

"BLOODY GOD DAMNED MURDER!" Jackson screeched as he leapt on top of the soft bed in an attempt to get the "insect" off of his trail. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" The buzzing sound however, continued to banter him regardless of his pleadings. "Blast! Blast! Blast!"

* * *

Baby Tooth stared in confusion at Jack Frost as he scampered around the room like a crazy mad man. Every time she attempted to get near him, he would swat her away and run into a different corner of the room. She didn't understand at all...

* * *

No matter how hard he tried, Jackson could not get the damned bug to leave him alone. He had run into every single corner in the room, threw every piece of furniture he could, and screamed at the top of his lungs, but the bug still persisted to chase him.

Sure, it was possible that he was overreacting slightlyt, but - in defense - he was simply defending himself against... the tiny...little...creature...

Just as he flung open the window and prepared to jump out into the winter air in a form of desperation, the door to the room (He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.) flew open. Jackson paused and craned his neck to see who it was that was interrupting his mental breakdown.

A large man stood in the shadow of the doorway. A large man dressed in red and white. A large man with a very large beard... A very large and intimidating man.

The said man's cerulean eyes scanned the room's decadence with a heavy frown, before they landed on Jackson's awkward form. (The young boy was currently sitting on the edge of the windowsill with one leg dangling out into the frigid air.) And for a moment, Jackson felt himself become filled with panic.

"I-I can explain myself!" Jackson pipped quickly as he held up his hands in defense.

"Jack." The large man said with a rather strange accent, cutting him off with a raised hand. "...You are alright! That is good!"

The man suddenly approached Jack and swept him into a large hug, before patting him gruffly on the back. The large, intimidating man didn't seem so intimidating anymore. And that was a good thing. A very good thing.

Pulling himself away from the large man's grasp, Jackson backed away into the room and glanced at him cautiously.

"Are you the one who saved me?" Jackson questioned rather tentatively. He wasn't passive by nature; but seeing that he was suddenly being hugged by a man whom he did not know, he was rather wary.

"No." the large man answered with a large smile as he gestured towards the open door. "Bunny did."

"Bunny...?" Jackson frowned with narrowed eyes as he turned his head slowly towards the direction of the man's pointing fingers. His frowning expression, however, quickly melded into one of shock and surprise, for standing in front of the door was a very large gray rabbit.

"What's up, Fros-

"BLOODY HELL!" the young Burgess shouted, leaping back several feet as he pointed a finger at the oversized animal, . "What the hell is that...that thing?! It's huge!"

"Did he just call me a 'thing'?" the rabbit blinked rapidly as a flicker of rage danced in his large brown eyes.

"It can talk!" Jackson shouted in wonder as he pulled on the large man's red sleeve and pointed. "Did you hear that? It can talk! It can...talk." Jackson had whispered the last remark faintly, a feeling of nausea having suddenly swept over his body. He quickly moved his hand to cover up his mouth as he felt a sudden urge to show those around him what he had eaten in the morning. "UgHHmm..."

"Oi, Frostbite, are ye' alright?" the animal questioned in an odd accent of slight British reminiscents.

Jackson suddenly felt himself being patted on the back by a soft and furry paw. He glanced up slightly to see the large rabbit looming over him in a manner of self-conscious worry. For a moment, their gazes met and in that same moment Jackson chose to bravely pull on the rabbit's ears.

"Crikey!" the rabbit yelped, pulling away from the adolescent and grasping his floppy ear defensively. "What's the matter with you?"

"You really are an over-sized talking rabbit, aren't you?" Jackson muttered in awe, earning strange looks from those around him. He slowly and tentavely approached the animal. "What are you?" When he received no answer, except an expression of pure and utter shock from the rabbit, he turned towards the large red man. "What is he?"

The large man suddenly clasped his meaty hands on Jackson's shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes. "Jack-

The doors of the room suddenly swung open once more and two figures quickly bundled into the chaos. The two said figures, whom Jackson identified as humans, turned out to be nothing of the sort, which in all truth made Jackson wish that he had jumped out of the window earlier.

The first figure, identifiable as a female, was - Jackson had to admit - easy on the eyes. She had a well-endowed figure, her slopes and grooves happening to be in all of the right places. Her skin, from what he could see from behind the tufts of jade and rose feathers that were pasted all over her skin, was a smooth and creamy color. And her eyes (oh, her eyes) were a lovely shade of chocolate brown - a color which reminded Jackson of Madame Pomfrey's candy shop which had housed many delectable and irresistible cocoa-flavored treats before the business had fallen into debt. Though her eyes were lovely, Jackson found that the most attention-grabbing part of her were her translucent wings. They fluttered every couple of seconds, continuously changing from shades of green to shades of blue.

The second figure who had entered the room reminded Jackson of sand and gold. This was because the figure literally looked like he was made up of only sand and gold all things that glittered. For instance, his glowing skin looked like it had been delicately excavated from a gold-mining sight; and his wavering, spiked up hair looked as if it could be sold for one-hundred pounds apiece. He was, to put it into simpler words, dazzling... And floating.

"I-I... Jack is awake?" the rosy-faced woman flustered as she darted to the Bunny and to the large red man before flutteringto Jackson's side. "I was off delivering teeth for just a minute and now... Now you're awake! That's wonderful!" She paused for a moment before quickly continuing, "We actually need your help, Jack. Father Time - something has happened-

"Woah, uhm, Miss," Jackson grinned cheekily as he blinked at her gaitley, "I don't quite understand what it is that you're trying to tell me, but if you would kindly tell me if you've seen my sister, I would gayly lend you an open ear." (The fairy simply covered her mouth, eyes widening, at his query remark.)

After Jackson made this offer, the golden man suddenly sprang higher into the air, forming symbols of gold and sand above his head in a fast-paced fashion. The small man looked very alarmed and appeared as if the knowledge that he had just gained was very grave and important. Unfortunately, Jackson was the only one who noticed his flustered movements and the boy wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"He's officially gone off of his rockers." the large rabbit stated bluntly, crossing his large arms in an almost disappointed manner.

"Well, you know what? Maybe I _have_ gone off of my bat!" Jackson retorted, feeling slightly insulted. "I mean, if I just so happen to be dreaming about a dodgy, talking rabbit," Jackson took a moment to gesture at the said animal, "I might as well be admitted into a bloody institution!"

"Jack," the large man spoke from behind him suddenly in a deep and commanding voice, "Wh-

"Oh, and, seeing that you haven't noticed yet," Jackson interrupted the man abruptly and rather rudely, "you're golden friend over there has been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes. "

The three strange beings turned towards the equally strange golden man. Seeing that he was finally being noticed, the gold man rolled his eyes before grinning broadly. He then pointed at Jackson, who in turn raised an eyebrow, and formed a gold sand-made clock above his head. The golden clock ticked and tocked to life, before it was abruptly shattered in half by an unknown force. The shattered pieces of the clock suddenly morphed into the shape of a lean, middle-aged man. This man was apparently greatly disliked by the three strange beings, for they immediately let out collective gasps and looks of disgust.

"I don't really understand..." Jackson muttered slowly as he took a step backwards, suddenly feeling the need to escape.

"Black Ice..." the elegant fairy muttered as her eyes darted back and forth. "Father Time's frozen clock...And... Jack..." She glanced up abruptly at the large red man before gasping, "Is this Pitch's doing?"

"No, no, no," the rabbit shook his head as he approached the fae, "that's impossible. He wouldn't have recovered so quickly." The rabbit then glanced back at Jackson, a flicker of both doubt and worry present in his warm eyes.

Jackson didn't understand what was going on. The four figures standing around him kept giving him furtive and worried glances. And whenever Jackson would open his mouth to speak - to ask where his sister was - they would simply stare at him with rather widened eyes. The young Burgess boy hated the feeling of being left out. That was why he had always tried his best to get himself involved with the townspeople of Burgess: to get involved, to not get left out.

"Only, one way to find out." the large man suddenly said steadily as he placed a firm hand on Jackson's shoulder. The boy had been steadily backing away from the strange creatures with a look of pure and utter confusion etched into his face; and he had yelped loudly as the hand was clamped onto his shoulder. "Jack," the man said slowly as if talking to a child, "What happened before you were knocked out at lake?"

Knocked out at the lake? Did he mean drowning?

"I was playing...with my sister," Jackson admitted honestly. "We were just skating." He paused for a moment before continuing on, his voice quivering and his spirit breaking, "I don't know what the bloody hell is going on... I-I just want to see my sister and take her home... Please, just take me to her."

* * *

Never in his life had Nicholas St. North, former Russian scoundrel, seen Jack Overland Frost look so vulnerable...so honest... and so true to himself. It was so strange.

Jack Overland Frost had spent three-hundred years in complete solitude, with only the winds and himself to confide in his thoughts and worries. The three-hundred-year long dissonance had caused the winter spirit to be wary of others - trusting even. Yet even through all of this distrust and disturbation, the sprite had managed to pull off a mischievous smile and laugh a quirky laugh before moving on.

And now...

North turned to glance at Jack who was currently lazing on a velvety red couch whilst juggling several small elves in a far corner of the lounging room. There was a rare true-smile etched upon his face and he looked as if he was having the happiest time of his life.

"That little Frostbite sure is a moodswinger, isn't he?" Bunnymund commented thickly, though North could clearly see a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "One moment he's yellin' his mouth off, and the next he is laughin' like nothing happened. Little bugger."

"We_ did _tell him that his sister was safe and sound at his..home," Toothiana whispered pointedly with self-consciously crossed arms. "It seemed to calm him down a bit."

Above Sandy's head, golden pictures started forming. First came the image of a brain. It sprouted into a large tree with enormous branches. The said branches, after being shaken by an unknown force, fell from the tree's trunk.

"Ja," North nodded slightly as he stroked his great, white beard. "Jack has appeared to have lost some memories."

"Important ones, if I might add." Bunnymund interjected, glancing over at the frost spirit who was currently helping himself to a batch of warm cookies.

"It must be terrifying for him," Tooth whispered as she alighted onto the ground. "I mean, three-hundred years - just gone."

"Pitch is going to bloody pay for this." Bunnymund muttered under his breath, before pausing slightly. "What I don't understand is what this has to do with Father Time's disappearance. Something just doesn't fit. I mean, why Jack? Why not any of us? Anyways, Father Time is a powerful man. He wouldn't be bested by that limey Pitch, especially in his weakened state."

"That's true..." Toothiana agreed with a slight bow of her elegant head. "Pitch... We've caused more trouble for him than Jack ever has. And...And Father Time - he's a Universal Being isn't he? He's too powerful to just be-

"Hiya, who's Pitch?" a curious voice piped innocently as a certain white head of hair popped into the conversation. "Isn't 'pitch' a concept or something? Madame Antionne - she's my piano teacher - keeps mentioning it every once in a while."

The four Guardians glanced at eachother, before returning their gazes to Jack and breaking into large smiles. Their smiles were so wide that, for a moment, it appeared as if their eyes would pop out of their sockets

"Uhm.. I mean no offense - I really don't - but you're smiles are very... creepy." Jack informed with a blink. "So... Who is this Pitch character?"

"No one, Jack." North grinned as he patted the frost spirit roughly on the shoulders for the umpteenth time that day. "Just acquaintance."

"Right..." Jack nodded, clearly unconvinced. "Anyways, may I ask for who you are? I mean, clearly you aren't from Burgess or from any of colon-I mean the States for that matter. Are you foreigners, I mean, foreigners of Earth?"

It was strange hearing Jack speak in such a soft and proper manner with a polite undertone. The Jack that they were familiar with wouldn't be so formal and delicate with his words. He would belt them out freely without a care in the world. Weirrdddd.

"Oh, oh!" Jack shouted suddenly as he pointed at North with enthusiasm. "Are you perhaps a Creole? You're way of speaking nearly resembles it. Did you know that my piano teacher was a Creole too? Well, that was before she left her..." He trailed off, eyes wandering.

But then again, this Jack was so much like the other Jack. The way his mind who trail off and the way he would follow a single thought - it was all the same. His reckless and carefree manner remained too, though it seemed to have been intensified tenfold.

"The name's E. Aster Bunnymund," Bunny spoke up first, surprising everyone by his willingness to take on the situation.

"Bun-ny-mu-n-d," Jack tried out the words slowly with a small smile, before glancing up at the said rabbit. "Well, Mister Bunnymund, I think you're a pretty cool mate. The way you speak... It sort of reminds me of a friend that I had when I lived in England. He spoke almost the same way as you..." Jack suddenly noticed that Bunnymund had not finished speaking. "Oh, I apologize for interrupting."

The apology left Bunnymund rather baffled and as he stared into Jack's pure and innocent eyes, he felt a pang of empathy.

"I'm the Easter Bunny." Bunnymund finished bluntly. Bunny almost clamped his mouth shut after those words had left his mouth. The Guardians gave him exchanged glanced. They had agreed before to not inform Jack of who they were in an attempt to keep him safe. (The boy would probably not believe the truth anyways since he was well over the age of a child.) They would have used the backstory of being in a circus to explain their appearance to the young boy... And now... Bunnymund mentally face palmed himself over and over and over again.

Silence followed and Bunny waited for the inevitable-

"Bloody hell!" Jack exclaimed, eyes sparkling like a thousand diamonds. "Are you serious? That's so ace! I know you were real!"

The Guardians watched as Jack hopped around the room like a rabbit (ironically enough). And for a moment, Bunnymund felt himself fluff up with pride. That was until the frost spirit suddenly skidded to a halt and approached Toothiana in a rather ravishing manner.

"You... You must be the tooth fairy then!" Jack stated blatantly as he raised and placed a small kiss on the Fairy Queen's pale hand. "It is a pleasure to be acquainted."

The three male Guardians gawked at this act and watched as Tooth went a shade of red. The small fairies that were fluttering around her unsurprisingly fainted. Baby Tooth however, cautiously approached Jack and landed on his white head.

"So you were the source of the buzzing sound..." Jack muttered faintly as he hesitantly reached up to stroke the small fairy.

"That was... unexpected." North blinked at the still blushing Tooth. Sandy quickly nodded in agreement before it was his turned to be pointed at by Jack.

"And then... You must be... the Sandman?" Jack drawled slowly and hesitantly as he extended his hand to Sandy who quickly shook it. "You bring dreams to all of the children in the world?"

Sandy nodded happily and proudly, a small and golden night sky appearing above his head.

"That's so ace!" Jack whispered in awe, approaching Sandy to observe him more closely. "You look different from how I pictured you... You look way sharper!"

Jack then moved onto North, a small smile melding onto his pale face. "I know who you are. You're St. Nicholas, aren't you?"

North nodded with a smile, slightly surprised at the usage of his former name.

"You're bloody Santa Claus!" Jack identified without missing a beat, eyes glittering like a child's. "I can't wait till I tell everyone about you guys! I can't wait to see Pippa's face!"

Tooth's heart immediately fell at the winter spirit's statement.

Pippa, Jack's little sister. The one whom he had sacrificed his life for. The one who followed him wherever he went and was always by his side. The one who was now no longer in the land of the living.

"Wait," Jack paused suddenly, the spark of life fading from his eyes, "You _can_ take me to them right? My family. I really... miss them."

Silence fell.

"We will take you to them." North confirmed abruptly, slicing the silence in half with a sharp knife. "But blizzard is outside. We will take you later."

"Really?" Jack's face immediately lit up and he quickly hopped to North's side, smiling brightly and nodding over to the tray of cookies. "Well to show my gratitude, I can offer to you my spectacular cooking abilities~!"

"You can cook, Jack?" Tooth blinked.

"Of course, I can, Miss. Tooth Fairy." Jack grinned at her brightly (It was another one of his real, rare smiles.) The white-haired boy's eyes glittered mischievously for a moment. "They don't refer to me as the '_Jack of All Trades'_ for nothing."

* * *

**[ Author's Outbox ]**

**Alluring Alliteration: **And it has come baack! /poses. But... Little Jackson doesn't know that he has powers or that he is a Guardian...yet XD. And poor Jack.. /shakes head. I'm so evilll xD

**The White Grim: **R-Really? /sniffles. N-No body has ever said that to me before... /shotshotshot. And I love your choice of words there xD. Muchos Gracias!

**victiniphantom: **If you mean Past!Jack in Present!Jack's body...then yes. /nodnod. Don't worry though. I have this entire thing plannnned out... Sorta. xD

**Mystery Girl Who Writes: **First off, your name is awesome. Secondly... Feel free to share those ideas xDDD

**Danny Hellcat: **No...Maybe...yes... /shrugs. xD

**TheBetrayalKnowsMyName: **Wait a second, isn't your username the title of an anime show or something? I think I've watched that one before! Annnddd... Yes, master. /bows.

**Bookworn210:** Haha. I laughed when I wrote that part too xD.

**Tiny Cherie: **I dunno why... /sadface. Ah, well. Whatever happens, happens. Anywaysss, I woke up 17-year-old Jack here just for chu! xD

**Ayara012:** Thank ya very much! Andddd... Well, Father Time is absent sooo.. /devious smile... I guess we have to wait to find out. /ME GUSTA!

**The Dp Fangurl: **I hath continued! Opinions? x3

**blakkyu**: Thank you! That actually helped ;O. Jack's voice is delicious... So is Pitch's... /fangirl.

**Kiomori: **I haven't! Anddddd, yes it is. Too bad Father Time has... mysteriously disappeared... /moves arms in a noodle like fashion. Ooooo~! Anddd... I actually have this time paradox idea thingy going on in my head...so.. yeah. xD

**LightMyBulb:** Wow, your username is really awesome too! What's with all these creative usernames?! xD Anyways... Thank ya!

**NightFury1017: **Yup, yup! Here ya' go!

**AutunmoColorum: **Your name. It's in Latin. For once in my life I can apply Latin to...real life! Huzzah! And yup! The tension continues... or however you say it... The mystery continues? The suspense continues? Idek. /derp.

**SokkasFirstFangirl: **Wait... Sokka from Avatar?! I love that showwwww! /fangasm. Thanks though ;33

**Soaha:** Bad juju indeed... Bad juju. /wiggles fingers mysteriously.

**...**

**A/N: **I is back and I is fully recovered! I watched the movie again last Friday and it was still amazing - especially since I had friends to fangirl over it with... Actually, my one friend, she ships PitchxJack xDDDD. Oh. And have you noticed that RotG is just like Avengers but kiddified?! It's awesome!

Anyways, on a slightly more serious note, as you can see, this chapter mostly focuses on Jackson... So I'm going to ask you for your opinion. Do you want every other chapter to focus on the different Jacks only? Or do you want a chapter to contain both of the Jacks' plots/stories?

Anddd, if you're wondering about Father Time... he'll make an "appearance" in the next chappie!

Alright then. /waves. Thanks y'alls for reviewing and if you would kindly review again, I'd appreciate it! ;3


	4. Trickster in the Tub

**4**| _Trickster_ in the _Tub_

* * *

The sky had become a dark hue of blue and black, when Jack Overland Frost finally and hesitantly slipped into the water-filled porcelain basin; and the water rippled and rose as Jack added his weight to the water.

He had been spending the last ten minutes staring at the tub of water in fascination, frowning as waves of heat had escaped from its liquid surface. The former winter spirit had had many unsatisfactory experiences with heat and steam before; and he hadn't been exactly willing to compromise with the burning form of energy yet. It was only when he had heard a knocking at the bathing room door and a voice questioning his condition, that he had, after quickly flustering out an answer, managed to calm his nerves and sink himself into the surface of the clear water.

The liquid had turned out to be surprisingly lukewarm; but to Jack, who had not experienced any form of heat for a little over three-hundred years, it was uncomfortably hot.

He stifled a yelp and grimaced slightly in an odd form of sarcasm. "So this is what it feels like to be in a hot tub."

With dedicated patience, the former frost spirit slowly lowered himself into the tub until almost his entire body was submerged by the warm, clinging water. Relaxing himself, he floated steadily in the water, allowing the now comforting heat to seep into his skin.

And he allowed his mind to clear...

What was going on?

He held himself in spot for a moment and allowed the water to still and become a mirror. The face of a familiar copper-haired, brown-eyed adolescent rippled along the surface of the aqua-mirror. Frowning at the familiar, yet foreign reflection, Jack drew his toned hand across the water and disturbed the liquid mirror.

'_I look... human again... And...' _A small smile crept up his rosy face, '_And... my family is alive! And they can freakin' see me!'_

This had Father Time written all over it. But now that Jack thought about it, Father Time was not on the list of people whom he had pranked nor actually met, so why was this entire predicament occurring?

Then a thought suddenly wove its way deep into his mind. And the thought terrified him.

What had happened to his powers?

Even without his staff, he would usually be able to - whether or not it was with his consent - freeze water upon touch. And now?

Jack once again wafted his peachy arms through the distilled water.

Now, there was nothing. And he felt horribly empty inside. He felt horribly...human?

A knock on the bathing room's fogged up window drew his attention away from his thoughts. He squinted through the moisture in the air and stared at the window for a moment; but after nothing out of the ordinary followed, he sank back into his thoughts.

He now needed to find away to-

The reverberation of something against glass echoed through the bathing room's interiors once more, causing Jack to jump slightly. He frowned at this. No one made Jack Overland Frost jump. Not even the Boogieman.

He stood up slowly from the basin, allowing the lukewarm streams of water to trail down his tan, naked skin. He reached over towards the holding-iron and grabbed his brown-hemmed pants, quickly made his way out of the basin, and slid them on. And since he had not dried himself off, the clothing material clung rather tightly to his steamy skin. If Tooth's mini-fairies were in the room at the moment, they would have surely fainted at the scene.

Jack didn't bother to search for his shirt (his... 'mother' had taken it from him earlier to wash) and quickly bounced up towards the window, his limbs oddly managing to stay swift and nimble even though he himself was no longer as light and elegant as a snowflake. Pressing his rosy fingers on the surface of the glass, he attempted to peer through the fogged up glass. All he saw was darkness.

"Well, then," Jack said promptly with a small smile, suddenly wondering why on Earth he was talking to himself, "might as well go explore!"

The cold would do him good anyways, right? Whenever he had contracted a fever in the past (mostly from wandering in the deserts for too long), he would just immerse himself in frigid snow to relieve him off of his hot flashes. So... the same concept would still apply to him now, right?

"Might as well find out, right?" Jack questioned himself, grinning recklessly.

He dug his fingers in-between the small crack left between the window and the walls and pulled upwards. Immediately, a cold draft entered the room, causing Jack to shiver slightly. He paused for a moment, his mind racing.

He vaguely knew that deep inside, he was just trying to avoid meeting his family. Be it because of his fear that he wasn't the 'Jack' that his family so desperately wanted to see, or because of his adept attraction towards loneliness and adventure when confused, Jack did not in the least bit want to rendezvous with his family at the moment. The happiness that he would feel with them - it would all be temporary, or so he assumed. Anyways, he needed to get his head wrapped around his current situation and the exploration of his surroundings would heed to his goal greatly.

With those thoughts in mind, Jack slipped quietly out of the window and into the dark, winter night.

* * *

The Burgess's dining room was terribly quiet, even though most of the family members were present around the dinner table. An atmosphere of uncertainty and hesitation had immediately filled the room after Hudson, one of the two younger twin sons, brought up Jackson Burgess's strange and erratic behavior.

"Why is Jack acting like," Hudson asked quietly as he stared hungrily at the untouched food on his porcelain plate, "like a stranger for, Dad?"

Thadeus Burgess exchanged a quick glance with his wife , who shook her head discretely, before coughing in preparation to speak. "It's the fever. The doctor said he would most likely be delirious for several days." Thaddeus paused, clasping his hands together on top of the table after seeing a look of fear pass over young Hudson's face, "I assure you, son, he will be back to his trickster ways soon enough."

A nervous laugh wavered through the table, and Hester Burgess took this opportunity to speak up with a quivering smile, "Well, since Jackson is bathing at the moment, it's no use to let good food become cold. I'll heat up some broth for him when he is done." Her brown gaze flickered up to her husband's shaven face, "Shall we say grace?"

"Yes," Thadeus approved with a curt nod, smiling warmly at his wife, "That would be a-

"I'm not hungry." Pippa spoke suddenly, setting her fork that she had been fiddling with previously on the table. "May I be excused from the table?" She asked this while she stared down at her hands underneath the table.

"Pippa," Hester spoke sternly, "y-

"_Please_, mum." Pippa pleaded insistently as she glanced up and met her mother's eyes. "I can't go on pretending like everything is going to be absolutely fine. It's silly playing pretend. I hate it."

"Pippa-

"Fine," Thaddeus spoke suddenly, interrupting his wife abruptly, not lifting his eyes to meet anyone else's, "you may go if you wish, Pippa."

"Teddy!" Hester spoke indignantly as she frowned.

"Thank you." Pippa nodded curtly, before pushing her chair backwards and quickly departing from the table.

Hester simply shook her head in despair, leaned forward towards the table, and buried her head into her hands. Seeing his wife's grief, Thaddeus slowly and comfortingly reached over to touch her shoulder.

* * *

Jack winced as his bare feet hit the cold ground. He immediately shivered as a cold draft swept viciously across his chest. Jack Overland Frost was as cold as hell.

It was such an unnatural feeling though - being cold that is. The frigid air surrounding him made him feel so empty, void of everything. And that depressed him immensely. Then again, he had always known that winter had two sides: one of joy and fun, and another of death and cold.

The familiar sound of crunching snow drew him away from his thoughts; and he peered through the darkness in search of the said sound. Unfortunately, the sun had long hidden away into the mountain tops, so no light aided Jack in his furtive search.

"Hello?" Jack called out through chattering teeth. As expected, he received no answer. He frowned at this. "Look, I'm really not in the mood for playing hide n' seek..." Actually, now that he thought about it, the prospect of the game sounded fun. He smiled at his quirkiness.

"Jack?" a masculine voice questioned lightly in the direction of the frosted trees that were situated to his left.

"Who's there?" Jack questioned rather loudly, turning in the direction of the voice with his muscles becoming tense.

"Wow," the voice continued with a low whistle, "you still seem quite chipper for a person who nearly drowned."

"What?" Jack blinked in surprise, before his frown returned. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

"Woah, woah!" the masculine voice stuttered in surprise (and in a distinctly British accent) as his small figure appeared out from the darkness. "It's just me, Jack! And in case you haven't noticed, I was so bloody worried about you that I snuck out of my house just to see you!"

"Huh?" Jack blinked in surprise as he was suddenly pulled into a tight bear-hug.

"And, is there any reason why you're speaking like a buffoon for?" the hugger questioned in a light-tone, as he pulled himself back so that he could see Jack's face in its entirety.

Jack took this opportunity to assess the person in front of him. Much to his dismay (or was it surprise?), due to the thick bundle of brown fur wrapped tightly around the man's body, Jack could not make out any of his features in the least.

"Chewbacca?" Jack frowned, perplexed as he backed away from the fur-bundled creature. "Wait, who are you?"

"Please tell me that you're joking." the bundled-figure pleaded in a rather posh manner. "It's me, Jack. You're old mate!"

The familiar tone of speech struck Jack with nostalgia. He had known this person when he was alive and well (and over 300 years ago). But no matter how hard he tried, he could not recall who in the world the bundled-figured was. Maybe if he could catch a glimpse of the said figure's face...

"I'm pretty sure that I would remember if I was friends with Chewbacca's brother." Jack stated promptly with a cocky smile, a hint of sarcasm trailing from his light and peppy words.

"C-Chewbacca?!" the man, now dubbed by Jack as 'Chewbacca', started in complete and utter confusion. "And what the bloody hell is Chewbacca?" He paused for a moment as if trying to find words to describe his befuddlement, before continuing on in an oblivious and dramatic tone, "Jack, please don't tell me that this 'oddness' is an after-effect of your...drowning experience! If it is, I have no one to pull pranks on other hapless saps with! I mean, you were a prick sometimes - well, most of the time - however, the world wouldn't be the same without you!"

"Y'know, Chewbacca," Jack laughed lightly with a raised eyebrow as he leaned against the ledge of the bathing room window, "I'm not sure whether I want to smack you, appreciate you, or send you to an institution right now."

"And his bluntness remains!" Chewbacca exclaimed, hands outstretched towards the sky. "Thank you, great Lord!"

"Uhmm, right..."

"Now, would you mind telling me why you're bloody naked?" the furry, young man questioned indignantly, peering at Jack's mildly amused face. As Chewbacca did this, a flash of worry suddenly invaded his expression. "Blimey! You have a fever, Jack! You can't be out here and wandering about!"

Jack waved him off nonchalantly, "It's just a small cold."

The former frost spirit suddenly found himself being tackled to the ground by the enormous bundle of fur; and he shouted a yelp of indignation as his back collided with the frosted grass that littered the ground.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?!" Jack growled, maneuvering himself along the icy ground in an attempt to push Chewbacca off of him. "Get off!"

"Just. Stay. Still. Mate!" Chewbacca huffed between deep breaths. The furry young man was currently groping Jack's upper body in a very provocative manner, rubbing his mittened hands all over the former frost spirit's chest.

"Wha?!" Jack blurbed in heated anger. (The memories of battling Night-Mares and Pitch himself had begun to flood into his mind.)"Wha-Just, just..." He grabbed Chewbacca's shoulder gruffly as he platformed his feet on the the furry man's chest, "Get off of me!" With that warring cry having been shouted, Jack kicked his furry friend gruffly in the air and pulled himself up into an unbalanced stand.

The sound of body against snow soon reverberated through the still winter air, causing Jack to wince slightly. He peered out into the darkness once more and saw a small figure laying unsightly in the white snow. The small figure strangely appeared to be even smaller than before; and that was when Jack noticed that _he_ was now bundled in soft coat of fur. His eyes immediately widened. Chewbacca had been trying to put one of his many coats onto Jack.

"You're crazy, man!" Jack said in an exasperated and worried tone as he ran to Chewbacca's side. He knelt down in the frigid snow, noting with pride at how it sparkled like diamonds, and shook the young man lightly. "Hey, are you okay?"

"If you're wondering if I am perfectly and absolutely fine after being flung lit'rally half-way across the bloody sky," Chewbacca muttered, his warm breath creating puffs of fog in the sky, "then, blimey, I would inform you yes!"

"You're insane." Jack muttered breathlessly as an amused smirk crawled up his rosy cheeks.

"Says the one who is bloody wandering out in the cold," Chewbacca retorted as he sat up frowning.

Since Chewbacca had lost a layer of his clothing, Jack was now able to make out his facial features. Bright green eyes met Jack's own and head of messy blonde hair greeted him warmly through a layer of frosted snow. He looked like an elvish fairy, Jack decided promptly after assessing the boy's petite features with delicate assurance. And the former frost spirit did not recognize him in the least bit. This fact caused his heart to plummet.

"Is there any profound reason for why you're currently gazing at me like a lunatic for?" Chewbacca questioned, edging away from Jack's gaze. (The former Guardian had been progressively coming closer to Chewbacca's face with an awed gaze plastered all over his fair face.)

"I was just wondering if this is what Chewbacca looks like under all that fur." Jack answered promptly with a hint of sarcasm as he gestured towards Chewbacca's face.

"Jackson," the boy muttered quietly under his breath as he gazed deep into Jack's glowering brown eyes, "do... do you even know who I am?" Chewbacca flustered a bit for a moment as if he was trying his best to draw out the correct words to describe what was currently on his mind, "Madame Antionne stopped by our house earlier and she said that... that you were having memory problems." A sad look crossed the boy's cheery expression; and Jack suddenly found himself recalling his duty as a Guardian.

"Of course I know who you are!" Jack nodded reassuringly as he placed a hand on the boy's blonde head. "You're my... my mate!"

"Then why are you treating me like a child and a complete and utter stranger?" Chewbacca questioned calmly. He had suddenly gained the poise of a well-mannered adult; and his cheery banter had almost completely faded.

_Because you are child,_ Jack noted quietly to himself, _at least, to me you are-_

"You're not Jack."

_Huh?_

"Uh, yes I am."

"No, you're clearly not."

"Yes, I clearly am."

"Nope."

"YES."

"Non."

"Si."

What was this kid on anyways? He _was_ Jack afterall. Well, he wasn't _'that' _Jack, rather he was '_the current'_ Jack... If that made any sense...? Anyways, was there _that _much of a difference between the Jack of three-hundred-years ago and the Jack of now? If not, the child before him was oddly perceptive.

"Then, tell me, 'Jack'," the blonde boy ordered assertively, "What's your older brother's name?"

Ha! That was obviously a trick question. When Jack had first awakened before his family, he had taken time to count exactly how many members there were (though he wasn't sure whether or not Madame Antionne counted as one); and he had counted exactly five of them. And an older brother was not one of them.

"Ha," Jack laughed to himself with a victorious smile, "I don't _have_ an older brother!"

Chewbacca simply gawked at him in either utter shock or utter horror or maybe both.

_Whoops, wrong answer, _Jack decided. But... how was that even possible?

"Now that I think about it," Jack fumbled hastily as his mind searched for an escape route, "I might actually be suffering from some memory problems after-

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Chewbacca questioned in a threatening tone as he approached Jack in a predatory manner.

"What- you're crazy!" Jack sputtered indignantly, refusing to back off. He pointed to himself gruffly in the chest. "I'm Jack!"

"Well, I highly doubt that!" the blonde boy shot back heatedly, green eyes igniting like fire.

Oh, god. Was he, Jack Overland Frost, really arguing with a sentimental teenager? When the answer was revealed to him, he nearly facepalmed.

"Look-

"No, you look," the green-eyed boy stated in a stern voice, "you better tell me where the real Jack is, or I'm going to tell the officials!"

Holy shit. This kid was crazy. Flipping crazy. He was off of his 'bloody' rockers! He was so crazy that maybe - just maybe - he would believe the truth of Jack's current situation... No, that in itself was a crazy idea. And Jack, having been isolated for roughly three-hundred-years, was not one to trust people so easily - especially if it involved particularly dangerous matters. Yet... Be it because of his resonance with his current body or the ridiculousness of his current situation, Jack somehow found himself trusting the insane boy.

Interrupting the blonde boy's outrageous rant, Jack began to tell his story.

* * *

Harry Kirkland, having listened to his 'best mate's' tale, promptly stood in the winter air with his mouth agape. Delicate, yet oddly wise words had spun out an intricate tale of loss and adventure; and those wise words had came out from none other than Jackson Burgess's mouth. Jackson Burgess, the immature trickster. Jackson Burgess, the playful brother of all the village's children. Jackson Burgess, Harry's best mate.

It was utterly unbelievable... Yet at the same time, Harry found himself captivated by Jackson's - no Jack Frost's - heart-throbbing tale.

"S-So," Harry spoke finally in a quiet voice as his eyes searched for answers, "in this said 'alternate timeline'... you died when you fell through the ice," he glanced up at Jackson who nodded haphazardly, "and you became a winter spirit... but you lost all of your memories?"

"Sounds about right." Jack smiled quirkily.

"And you didn't know who you were for three-hundred-bloody-years!" Harry repeated in complete awe. "And... And Santa Claus is really real?" His expression brightened when Jack nodded. "I knew it! We should tell Arthur all about it- I mean you can bloody imagine the look on his face when-

Jack's face became crestfallen at the mention of 'Arthur'; and the sudden look of lonliness and sadness struck Harry deeply. Never before had he seen such a depressive expression etched onto Jackson's face.

"Oh, well, I suppose you don't exactly remember Arthur," Harry muttered quietly as he kicked the snow loosely aside.

"So, you believe my story?" Jack inquired rather hopefully, the lively and bright spark returning in his warm brown eyes.

"Of course I do!" Harry reassured hastily, truth evident in his tone. "But, well, I'm sort of bummed that, of all people, you would choose to forget me."

"I didn't choose to forget."

It was odd. The sad tone in Jackson's voice had returned - a tone that had never showed itself before. But then again, this was the Jackson of the future. It wouldn't make sense if he didn't change a little bit, right?

"Oh, that's right..." Harry murmured apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Jack simply waved him off. "So what's your name, anyways?"

"Harry," Harry answered brightly, "Harry Kirkland." He paused before adding, "I was your role model and you were my servant."

"Right..." Jack nodded, unconvinced. A smile suddenly crawled its way up his rosy face; and when Harry saw it, he felt relieved. "Hey, Harry, would y'mind being my wingman and helping me figure out how I got into this weird, trippy situation?"

Harry's face contorted in confusion. He was having a hard time catching up with Jack's soft accent and his odd words. However, before he could even reply, a quiet and feminine voice spoke from the darkness: "What do you mean that you're not Jack?"

The two jittery adolescents turned to see none other than young Pippa Burgess peering at them from beneath the large evergreen tree.

* * *

The humid, howling winds darted over the mountains, down the dried river and barren creeks of the valley, and squeezed themselves through the slightly open door of the gold-gilded monastery. The brass iron doors blasted open and slammed themselves back onto the iron-laiden walls as the boiling wind suddenly increased in volume. Colonel Oiendem Faust, who had been self-admittedly dozing off on the job, fell to the floor from his hoistered-chair abruptly with his unfinished paperwork following him down.

"Well now, Colonel Oiendem, I _certainly_ did not oversee you sleeping on duty..."

Standing in front of the now ajar doors stood the smirking General of the H-3 Division. The commanding officer was adorned in his usual war-wear. And just as usual, the overbearing white hooded-cloak with the embroidered scarlet patterns (It was the main indication of the General's rank, for all generals wore this said cloak with different patterns and colors sewn onto to their hemmings to designate their division.) hung loosely over his face, shrouding his features in dark, sinewy shadows and giving him the appearance of a fiendish reaper.

"And you certainly did not see me come here, because I am obviously at the regulation meeting." the General continued coyly, swinging his legs over Oiendem's desk. He reached out to pick up a collection of paper-clipped documents with his white gloved-hands and leafed through them briefly, before altogether dropping the said documents and smiling lightly. "Am I right?"

The colonel frowned blatantly as he snatched the falling papers out of the air and placed them delicately onto his desk. "If you're assuming that I will willingly step in and lie for you about a problem that is your own fault, I must apologize, but I believe you're horribly mistaken, General."

The general waved him off,"Cut the formalities, Oiendem." He paused for a moment and allowed an uncomfortable silence to fall into place before continuing: "I am actually here to inform you that you've recently been added to my division."

"What?" Oiendem questioned abruptly, straightening himself up and scrutinizing his superior in hopes that he was playing a coy joke. The general shook his head once, before pulling out a black parcel from his cloak and handing it to the colonel. The colonel didn't make a move to take the parcel; he simply stared at it. "B-But... I didn't sign up for this."

"You were drafted." the General informed.

"But I wasn't enlisted." Oiendem insisted in an almost pitifully pleading voice.

"I've already informed your Lieutenants of your transfer." the General shook him off, a small smile playing on his lips before he shrugged it off. "There isn't any time for farewells. We have to leave now."

"But, I have a fami-

"If you have any problems on this matter," the General hissed brightly, his voice adopting a harsh undertone and his good-natured attitude fading almost completely, "I recommend that you tell the head of the H-numbered divisions, because I assure you that he will at least let you leave his presence alive..."

The colonel stared wide-eyed at the cloaked-general as he felt the air around him begin to waver with blistering heat.

"...Just kidding." the General finished playfully. He abruptly turned his head towards the lower officer, smile faltering. "But you really are required to come though."

"W-What's," the colonel swallowed the lump in his throat, "What's the re-con mission?"

The General stared at him for a moment from behind his light cloak, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small-clear capsule. Inside of the said capsule glittered pure-white sand. The commanding officer suddenly tossed the capsule nonchalantly to the colonel who hastily caught it and clasped it tightly within his war-roughened hands.

"This is..." Oiendem whispered, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He glanced up at the general for reassurance; and when he received none of the sort, he frowned: "This is part of the Exodus Project. Father Time's sand?"

"So you _have _been studying." the General stated bluntly before swiping the bottle of sand from the colonel's hands. "The briefing papers are in the packet-" (The colonel furtively glanced at the parcel clenched in his right hand.) "-but, just for the fun of spoiling it for you," the General tucked the capsule deep into his pocket, "we're going to be taking a fieldtrip to the twenty-first century."

* * *

**[Author's Inbox] **

Mystery Girl Who Writes: Oh, your prediction is right... When Jackson finds out... /shivers.

Kiomori: Alright! I took your idea into mind ;3. And OMG. I love Doctor Whoo! Art thou a Whovian? /shot. AND. AND. The wibbly, wobbly time stuff will be explained in later chapters. ;33

Alluring Alliteration: Oh, yes. Polite!Jack is a weird Jack. Annnnd, thank ya! ;3 Your review means a lot.

LightMyBulb: So do I! /fangirl

theKyra: Ohhh. That part. The town of Burgess was actually founded in the 1780s... so I sort of wanted to follow through with my plot in a historically accurate manner... But that sort of messed up the 'three-hundred-years old' part too, I guess. Ah, well... Just pretend that little blurb didn't happen?

Lacie's Tune: Thank you! /pats on the head. And... do you happen to like Pandora Hearts by any chance?

XxSpiritWolfxX: Thank you! And I'll actually make a couple of chapters where their POV's merge. /nodnod. ;e

blakkyu: Yup, yup! And thanks! ;33

Saka moon: I will show a chapter where Jackson plays the piano, actually. I have this whole angsty!plot idea for it too! And thanks! ;3 Your review means a lot. I'm glad that you're interested in le story :D.

Higashiyama-san: And here's an update for chu!... Though it wasn't 'ASAP" Dx

springsamurai: I think the correct word is 'adorkable' XD

SokkasFirstFangirl: I knows! /clings to Jackson. And that's awesome!

Az The Dragon: Dont worry. I haz this allll planned out. /devious smile. And I'm glad that this piqued your interests! ;o

The White Grim: Thank ya' very much! And ohhh, really? The norse name thingy for him is 'Jokul Frosti' or something, right?

comfychairs: Alrighty!

anon000: Lol, I'm glad that I humored you. /bows... And.. I'm not very good at making summaries so I guess that's expected Dx.

The Dp Fangurl: Aww... I got second place? /emo-corner. and Thank you! ;D I was afraid that I made Jack a little bit OOC

TheBetraylKnowsMyName: Awesomeness ;3. I've only read like a couple chapters of it, but still... and thanks!

StellarBound: Thank you.. but Jackson is mineee. /clings. And yes, Jack will be pretty jarred up. D:

all-star102938: Yes, I will! Maybe in a couple of chappies though...

**A/N: ** Bluh, sorry for the rushed-ness of this chapter. I'm trying my best to update quickly and I have a lot of projects piling up and BLUH. /dies.


End file.
